What we need
by Zoeff
Summary: A collection of stories centered around the friendship between Clint and Natasha (No Clintasha). Rated T.
1. Not a ghost story

**Author's note:**

 **Hello everyone!**

 **Thank you for deciding to give this story a shot. It's the first thing I have published on this page and before you start to read please notice a few things:**

 **1\. English is not my mothertongue. I do read a lot in English and watch movies and stuff but still I am not perfect in English and there will be mistakes. I am still figuring this page out and I still have no idea how to get a Beta.**

 **2 Of course I like to hear if you like my story, my writing etc. but I am also happy about constructive criticism. Feel free to tell me what you don't like but please don't be mean.**

 **Okay, that being said one last thing before the chapter starts.**

 **This fanfiction is supposed to be a collection of one or twoshots centered around Natasha's and Clint's friendship. There will be more, if you like.**

 **And now enjoy reading!**

 **Chapter 1**

 **Not a ghost story**

When the bullet rips through her abdomen all the air is forced out of her lungs. She turns to see the engineer drop. The bullet went through her and into his stomach. He is already crumbled on the street his already wet shirt starting to soak with blood. Her look slides down her own body, where blood is not dripping but gushing out of her wound. A hand clutches the entrance wound to stop the bleeding but deep down she knows it is no use if she can not cover the exit wound. She drops to her knees, half because she needs to check on her protege and half because her legs can't supprot her anymore. While she searches for his pulse on his throat she turns her head to look for the shooter. But he is gone. Her fingers on his throat tell her why. His job is done, the scientist is dead. He has no use for SHIELD anymore.

Nausea starts to well up in her and she closes her eyes. She can still see his statue. The metal arm, the long brown hair, the promise of death in his eyes. No ghost story. She should tell Clint when she comes home. A sharp pain on her abdomen makes her waver. Probably she is not going to make it home at all. Her hand is sticky with her blood and there is a big pool beneath her already. She tries to get up and barely makes it to her feet before the world starts turning. She doesn't know how but she manages to stay upright. She needs to radio in, she needs to get going. Her wrist raises to her mouth. "This is Black Widow...anyone...copy?" The comm crackles alive. It's Phil. She has never been more happy to hear his voice. "This is Control One. I copy. What's your status."

"The engineer is down. I couldn't...", she starts coughing so violently her knees give way again and she slumps to the ground. Blood is dripping out of her mouth. She wipes it away with her shirtsleeve. "Widow? Health status?", Phil's voice is concerned.

"I'm hit. He shot him through me", she rattles a breath trying to steady herself and failing. Her vision shrinks. She knows she needs to get away from the street but she cannot draw the strength. "Who? Who shot you? Where are you?" She can hear engines in the background, she knows they're on their way. "Winter Soldier", she manages to grint out. "He got away, I couldn't-" Her voice fails. She can't breath. She knows she's losing too much blood. She needs help.

"Okay, breathe! Listen to my voice and breathe. We tracked your location, we're on our way, hold on!"

Relief washes through Natasha and the adrenaline is slowly fading. It takes her a few seconds until she realises that she is no longer on her knees but lying on her stomach face turned to the left. She can see the body of her protege and suddenly wonders if this is the last sight she will see. Her last failure, the person she could not save, the mission she didn't finish. She can feel the life drain out of her.

"...-alk to me...NATASHA!" Phils voice comes back to her, dim like through a thick veil. "I'm here", she manages to whisper. "You need to stay awake. Hold on we are almost there." She is trying. But she feels that she is losing the fight. Phil talks on, but she can't understand his words and she can't respond. At some point she realises she isn't alone anymore. There are people, strong hands turn her around, she hears voices, feels hands over her body. The second they apply pressure on her wound a sharp pain brings her back to the surface. She cries out, her body convulses upwards and strong hands catch her, try to ease her back down.

The voices become clearer.

"We need a transfusion, she's lost too much blood."

"Try holding her still!"

"Get her some painkillers!"

"We need to move her now. She won't make it if we don't get her into surgery."

"Natasha! Hey, Natasha look at me!" Phil's voice is close to her left and her eyes try to focus. He is there. His face frowning in worry but he tries to reasure her. Tells her she will get home, tells her she will survive this, tells her she is not alone. She feels a sting on her left arm and as she looks down she sees a syringe sinking into her skin. Suddenly her eyelids are heavy, her head feels foggy, the pain becomes dull. She tries to fight it, pushes her body to the edges to not lose control.

"Don't fight it, Natasha. We're here. I'm here. I've got you."

And then she slips from conciousness.

The very moment Clint sets a foot into HQ he knows something is not right. He sees the looks of higher agents, hears the murmurs that stop when he is close. He doesn't understand though until he runs into Hill somewhere near the shooting range.

Natasha has been shot during a mission. She is not stable, fighting for her life. Phil is with her, keeps the base infromed every hour. They found her on a street, bullet hole in her abdomen, lying limp next to the nuclear engineer she was supposed to bring in. Her blood had been spilled all over the asphalt, the shooter out of sight. She has barely made it to the hospital. She is still in surgery but the doctors are not confident, preparing for the worst. Now the whispers make sense, these hushed conversations. Conversations that are about Strike Team: DELTA breaking apart, because Natasha is dying.

 _No_. Clint straightens himself. She is not, she's been through worse. She'll make it. He is not done with her. He needs to tell her that Lila was born three days ago. He has to tell her she is looking like Laura. He needs her to celebrate with him. This was supposed to be a nice visit at the base. Telling her he was a father again.

Without permission he heads for the hangar, gets into his favorite jet and takes off. Nobody questions it. They all know where he is heading. On his way he calls Laura and explains the situation. "I need to be with her", he tells her, feeling guilty for leaving his wife with their newborn daughter but Laura is understanding. She always has been. And she worries as much as he does.

"I know. It's fine. Bring her home!", she tells him before he ends the call. The rest of the flight he is worrying. That he might be too late, that he won't get a chance to say goodbye, that she can not win this fight. The minute he steps through the hospital doors Phil is there to greet him. He looks exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and his skin grey.

"How is she?"

Phil sighs. "She took a really bad hit. The bullet went all the way through her body and took down the engineer. It ruptured everything in it's way. She lost a lot of blood. They don't know if she will wake up." It feels like the ground is shaking. She has to see Lila. She has to celebrate every birthday with her, every birthday with Cooper, with him and Laura. He needs her to be there.

"Is she out of surgery?"

Phil nodds. "Yes about half an hour ago. She is in the ICU now but I made sure you can get to her."

Being her brother. That's their alibi. It's ridiculous, they do not look alike but no one questions it. He sits with her not moving for the entire night. Nobody asks him to leave, nobody talks to him at all, or maybe they do and he just does not realise that they address him. The only thing he sees is her face. A bit paler than usual but everything else is the same. She has no other injuries which is a miracle after what Phil told him about her mission.

After getting her protege out of the safehouse there had been several cars on her tail. Somewhere at a bridge they finally managed to push her off the road and she had been falling into the river trapped in the car. She had made it out of there though, taking the engineer with her, getting back on the road, but he had been there. The Winter Soldier. They had been making fun of it before. He's a ghost story, they had said. The ghost story has almost killed her.

Clint takes her hand and pulls it to his forhead. He is shaking, drawing in deep breaths to calm him. She feels cold, already lost.

After 20 hours at her bed Phil insists that he should get up for a little while, walk around, get a coffee. He only agrees because he wants to call Laura. It's 2 a.m. but she answers the phone after the first ring.

"How is she?"

"Not good. She hasn't woken up yet. The doctors say she probably won't...", his voice fails him. After hushed promises and reassurances he ends the call, buys a coffee in the cafeteria and heads back to her room.

It's crowded. Machines are wailing, nurses and doctors shouting. For a second Clint doesn't realize what is happening. Then he sees the flat line on the monitor that resembles her heartbeat. He sees the doctor pressing on her chest in regular patterns. He sees the paddles in the hands of the nurse waiting for the doctors request.

Suddenly Phil is there dragging him out of the room. Talking to him, but Clint doesn't comprehend. His blood is pounding in his ears, he can't feel his legs. Her name escapes his lips, barely a whisper in disbelief. She cannot die on him. She can't. She's his best friend. She can't die. The minutes drag on. Through the window he can see the doctors working on her, their faces getting darker with every second. And then suddenly they stop. The doctor doing the CPR is shaking his head and lifting his hands off her chest. There is no heartbeat.

Before he even decides anything Clint is back in the room, pushing the nurses aside. His hands are on her chest within the next second, pushing rhytmically. He is screaming at her not to give up. Begging her, pleading. The doctors are too surprised to hears Phil calling to him but he can't stop. He can't lose her. He bows over her and tilts her head, breathing for her, then pumping her heart again. "Natasha, please!"

She coughs. He is startled, stops his actions while the others spring into motion again. An oxygen mask is over her nose, a doctor is checking her pulse, the monitor shows a rhythmic hearbeat. He is brushed aside while they work on her. He can't move. Standing at her left side he just stares at her. Suddenly something cold touches his hand. Her fingertips are reaching for him. Her eyes are open, she looks at him.

He catches her hand and squeezes. She squeezes back. _I'm here._

A sob escapes his lips and he realises he has been crying.


	2. Who the hell doesn't like cake

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own the MCU or it's characters. I just really like to borrow them.**

 **Author's note:**

 **Well hello again. This took me way longer than I wanted. I had a few ideas but whenever I started writing I didn't like it. But I like this, so here you go.**

 **I still don't have a Beta, because everyone I wrote to hasn't answered me yet so please try to ignore minor mistakes and if there a huge mistakes like in vocabulary or something please tell me, so I can correct them.**

 **If you have any suggestions what I should write about I am happy to try. So go ahead. And now enough with the talking. Enjoy**

 **Chapter 2**

 **Who the hell doesn't like cake**

* * *

"What's this?"

Her voice is not amused, Clint can tell the second they both enter the room.

"It's a cake, stupid", he grins at her trying not to be intimidated by her dead look.

"And there is a cake, because...?" He pouts at her, not sure if she is playing him. "Because it's _someones_ birthday today!", he exclaims. Her face is suddenly hard and he is worried for a second. Is she surprised that he knows? That he got her something? Maybe even angry that he mentions it?

"Birthday", she repeats in a dead voice.

"Yes", Clint answers, the cheer gone from his voice. This is not how he has planned this and after seeing her reaction, or better the lack of her reaction, he is happy he hasn't made Coulson, Hill and a few other agents appear for a surprise party. "It's the 20th of May. That's your birthday. You are turning 22 today, Romanoff."

Her face becomes soft and she licks her lips. She takes a breath and her look is that of someone who has to explain something really simple to someone really dumb. Immediately Clint is annoyed by this look, he knows it too well because she likes to lay it upon him whenever she can. She opens her mouth to say something but he interrupts her. "Don't start lying to me! I checked it in your file. It says the 20th of May! Today is your birthday!"

"Barton. That is a birthday the Red Room gave me to put it in my fake ID's. That is not my actual birthday. I just went with it, because..." Her voice drifts, her face suddenly hidden in a mask again. "Because...?", Clint tries to push her but she remains silent and gazes at the cake and suddenly it hits him. "You have no idea when your birthday is?" She shoots him a quick gaze and he can't read the emotion in it. Is it fear, hate, sadness, frustration, annoyance?

"No."

Her statement is simple, her voice steady.

"Those things are not important for the Red Room. It doesn't matter when you started existing, the important thing is you do exist." She sits down on a chair and pulls from somewhere on her body a knife. Carefully she puts it face down and lets the pointy end touch the table. Then she starts to spin it.

"Do you know the year?"

She nodds. "Yeah. Well...though it isn't sure I guess. I was an orphan when they took me from the street. The doctor that was checking me over believed me to be three, so they did the math...might aswell have been four, who knows." She shruggs.

Clint can't wrap his head around this. He can't understand why she is so cool about this. She can read him like a book in this very moment and smiles.

"Barton come on, it's nothing to be shocked about." She flips the knife and suddenly it is gone, back where it was before, wherever the hell that was.

"It's just a day people celebrate. I don't even get why. You celebrate that your death is one more year nearer at your doorstep. Actually that's really morbid, don't you think?", she continues.

Clint shakes his head. "That's not what birthdays are about. It actually isn't so much about what the person who is aging celebrates. It is about everyone else. It's about the people celebrating with you. They celebrate that you are there, they celebrate the time they can spent with you. That's what birthdays are about! They mean it's nice that you are there."

There is a flicker of something in Natasha's eyes...longing maybe before the mask is back in place and she smiles ironically.

"Well and there you see why we didn't get to celebrate those in the Red Room. No one was really happy to spent time with me."

"Well I am!", Clint exclaims almost stubbornly. She rolls her eyes. "Don't get all emotional on me, Barton. That doesn't suit you." She pushes herself up and moves over to the door stopping infront of him. "Well, now you know. You don't need to remember this day. Not my birthday. A day like any other. " She presses her lips together and her eyes flicker uncertainly for a second.

"And uh...by the way. I am not a fan of cake. But thanks anyway I guess." She nods a little to herself and then opens the door. "I'll go and take a few rounds on the sparring mat with a few agents that are brave or stupid enough to try me."

With a last dry smile she is out the door, leaving Clint alone with an untouched cake and a turmoil of thoughts.

* * *

A few month later Clint knocks on her door. When she opens she rolls her eyes. There is another cake in his hands. "Barton, are you concussed? I think we have a Dejavu here."

"Shut up and let me in!", he tells her and she steps aside. He puts the cake on her table and turns around. She leans at her closed door, arms crossed over her chest and eyebrows raised. "Okay, so just let me say this without you being a smartass about something, okay?"

She pouts but nods her head and he takes a deep breath.

"So, I'm not okay with you having no birthday. Birthdays are important days whether you like that or not. So I'm going to give you one." Natasha wants to interrupt him but he raises a finger and looks at her warningly.

"I don't care if you want it. I told you before birthdays are not for yourself but for everyone else around you who want to celebrate that you are there. And believe it or not, I liked you having my back for the last year, so I decided your birthday is the day you joined SHIELD. Which is today. Surprise!", he adds and smiles goofily. "It is also the day you decided to be Natasha rather than Natalia so it really kinda is a birthday."

She stares at him obviously not sure what to say.

"I know this doesn't mean much to you and that is fine", Clint continues. "And I am not going to make a big deal out of it but I also won't let it go by unnoticed. So, here is a cake. There will always be a cake and there will be more when you're ready for that." He shuts his mouth waiting for her to respond but there is nothing. Unsure about her reaction he takes a deep breath and smiles.

"So, um...I guess Happy 22nd Birthday, Romanoff! Oh and I don't care if you don't like cake. Everyone gets cake and seriously, who the hell doesn't like cake?" And then he presses past her and out the door again, secretly kind of surprised he is still alive but also pretty content about what he did.

Inside Natasha stares at the cake. A smile tugs at her lips as she steps forward producing again a knife from nowhere and cutting a piece.

"идиот", Natasha whispers and then takes a bite. _(Idiot)_

From that day on the 1st of October is Natashas birthday. She doesn't know yet that in a few years she will really enjoy having a party with Clint and his family and a few years after that even with some stupid folks called the Avengers. She doesn't know yet but it's fine, because she will get there. For now it is Clint and a cake.


	3. This is not about trust

**Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or it's characters. I just like to borrow them.**

 **Author's note:** **So here we go again.**

 **First: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed chapter 1 and 2. I forgot to give you a shoutout last time.**

 **I had this one in my mind for a little longer. Since we got to know of Clint's family in Age of Ulton I have been thinking about how he got them out of the line so Loki wouldn't reach them. This is my idea what they (Natasha and Clint) did to keep them safe.**

 **And now enjoy reading and feel free to review. (Please leave a review :) )**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

 **This is not about trust**

The sun is slowly going down painting the kitchen golden as Clint finally can convince his kids to go to bed. While he is upstairs bathing Lila and arguing with Cooper about teeth hygiene, Natasha helps Laura do the dishes.

"I'm glad you two have some free time. There were too many missions in the last couple of weeks", Laura says and hands Natasha a dripping plate. "You have earned yourself a few days of vacation."

"Yeah", Natasha says absentmindedly. The cuts on her face have almost healed just like Clint's bullet wound.

"Hey, are you okay? You seem really far away tonight."

Natasha takes the last plate from Laura, starts drying it and sets it on the counter before sighing.

"There is something I need to give you."

Laura raises her eyebrows and puts the staple of plates back into the cupboard.

"You sound worried."

Natasha doesn't answer and reaches into her back pocket to hand Laura an envelope.

"What's that?", Laura asks and sits back down. She starts to open it while Natasha leans at the kitchen counter watching her reaction.

Laura frowns as she pulls out the paper. "Nat, what is that? There are just an adress and coordinates on here."

"Yeah", Natasha says and crosses her arms over her chest.

The frown deepens and she looks up at Natasha. "I don't get it, Nat. What is this?"

"It's the location for a safehouse."

Laura's face goes lax with surprise. "A safehouse? For what?"

"For you and the kids, in case you need to hide."

Laura shakes her head and puts the paper back into the envelope. "You know Clint already has two for us. You've been to both of them. We don't need a third one."

She wants to hand the envelope back to Natasha but this time it is Natasha who shakes her head.

"This is a safehouse only you and I know about."

"Why would...", Laura starts and then her face hardens. "No. I am not keeping this from Clint!"

Natasha presses her lips together.

"You don't have to keep the fact that you have a safehouse from Clint. Only the location."

Laura is upset as she pushes the white thing away from her. "No. I won't keep such a thing from him. Do you even understand what you are implying with this?"

Natasha wants to answer but Laura goes on already. "You are telling me that there will be a time when I cannot trust Clint! Do you...there will be no time in my life where I cannot trust my husband, Natasha! He is no danger to us! He would never hurt us!"

Her face is locked in anger and irritation as she stares at Natasha daring her to tell her different.

"Laura I'm not saying that he would want to.."

"No! I won't have such a conversation with you! That is ridiculous Natasha!"

"You want to tell me you don't have a safehouse I don't know about, just in case?", Natasha repeats, venom in her voice.

Laura flinches. Natasha knows they have, she knows Clint has one since the day he introduced Natasha to his family and she would call him an idiot if he hadn't.

"That's...", Laura starts but refuses to go on.

"Something different?" Natasha baces herself on the table. "No it is not!"

"Yes! It is. We didn't know you back then, we do now. I'll give you the location if you want to. I trust you-"

"This is not about trust Laura!", Natasha snaps and her hand slams down on the table. "This goes way beyond that. You have no idea, what can happen, you have no idea..."

"Don't you dare tell me I am naive, Natasha! After all those years that I am married to Clint and that we are friends you still have the nerve to tell me that I am naive?"

Finally Natasha's patience is spent. "But you are, Laura! You are naive. You and the kids, you are naive and I thank god every day for that and I want to keep it that way. But there are things neither Clint nor I can protect you from, dangerous unpredictable things-"

"Like my husband?", Laura shouts upset and springs up but before she can say anything else Clint is back.

"What the hell is going on? I just made Lila sleep!"

Natasha pushes back from the table and turns away. Clint looks at both of them and then sighes.

"What is the matter here?"

"The matter is that Natasha thinks we can't trust you!"

"That is not what I meant, Laura!", Natasha hisses without turning around.

"Well what did you mean then, when you gave me the address to the safehouse that Clint isn't supposed to know about."

"What I meant was, that there are things no one of us can control no matter how much we would want to!", Natasha snapps and turns around to push past Clint but he grabs her at her arm.

"Okay, stop. We're gonna talk this out! This is...okay, sit! You too Laura! I said sit!", he adds as Natasha doesn't move.

Clint picks up the envelope and puts it into his pocket. Reluctantly Natasha turns back to the table but doesn't sit down. Clint rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything.

He takes a deep breath and then looks to Laura.

"Natasha is right!"

Laura immediately explodes. "No she is not!"

"Yes she is! Laura, hey...Laura listen!"

He takes her hands in his and rubbs soothingly over them. "What Natasha is trying to tell you is that we have seen things that go past what you could imagine in your nightmares. What she is trying to tell you, is that there are things so powerful not even the strongest will can stop them.

And the reason she is telling you is that we have experienced this not so long ago", Clint stops for a second and looks back at Natasha whose eyes are directed down but doesn't say anything.

Laura looks up and her gaze flashes between him and Natasha. Natasha's face is a mask but her embarrasment shines through.

Laura swallows. "I don't want to think about you like that! I love you. I trust you."

"I know. But sometimes we don't have a choice." He places the envelope back into her hand.

"Keep it, and let's hope we will never need it."

Laura's hand is shaking as she takes the white thing from Clint. He kisses her hand and smiles at her. It's quiet for a while and then without a warning Natasha leaves the kitchen.

"Nat", Laura calls but just a few seconds later they hear the door to the front porch.

"I didn't mean to snap at her like that", she tells Clint guiltily.

Clint sighs as he looks after her but doesn't move to follow her.. "I know and she does too, don't worry."

* * *

Laura worries. Clint hasn't called. He usually calls every second day when he is on a mission, always around 3 o'clock when he knows Lila is asleep and Cooper is occupied with homework. He always calls, except for deep cover missions, when risking a phone call could compromise the whole mission. But this is no deep cover mission. He has called two days ago, complaining that watching that stupid little cube thing is boring and that he would rather be with Natasha who has some other misson god knows where.

His phone call has been due over two hours now. And Laura is worried. She has seen in the news this morning that there has been a collapse on a military facility yesterday and she is praying, that Clint hasn't been there. That this cube thing hasn't been there.

Laura does her best to stay calm for the kids sake. There is no use in scaring them. Though by the time she brings them to bed her nervousness is tugging on her. She doesn't even bother with trying to sleep. Instead she sits in the living room and switches from channel to channel, desperate to find something in the news, a tiny bit of information.

And then information comes but not from the TV. The phone doesn't even finish it's first ring before Laura has answered it. "Yes?", she asks breathless into the speaker. She is so desperate, so hopeful to hear Clints voice. But she doesn't.

"Laura, it's me!"

Natasha's voice is stern and Laura's heart starts a race.

"Where is he? Is he okay?"

"He is alive!" Relieved Laura lets herself slump down on the couch again. That is how Natasha is. No talking around the point, always giving the most important information first.

"Where is he?"

Natasha hesitates. "We don't know", Laura hears her exhale heavily. "Laura, I need you to take the kids and leave immediately." Laura's heart freezes. Her hands become numb and she can hardly hold the phone. "What?"

"Do you remember the location I gave you? The one only we both know about?"

Fear shoots up Laura's spine. She knows exactly what this means. She swallows but can't answer. She is taken back, almost one and a half years ago, where she had a huge argument with Natasha about it.

"Laura?"

Laura shakes herself free of her memories. "Yes. Is it...is it really necessary?" She doesn't want to go. Not because she doesn't want to wake the kids, or doesn't want to leave the house to find a safer place. She doesn't want to because of what it means to leave for that specific location. It means Clint isn't allowed to know. It means he's a danger to them. Laura doesn't want to fathom that.

"Yes. I know this is...", Natasha sighs and starts again. "I want to tell you this is just a paranoid precausion but he's been compromised. I'm not going to lie to you, it's bad, I don't know what he will be forced to do...! I need to know you are save. I need to know I don't have to worry about you, so I can concentrate on bringing him back!", she comes to a halt here as if she has said something that bothers her.

When she speaks up again her voice is determined. "I will, Laura. I will bring him back." Laura closes her eyes trying to hold herself together. She blows out a breath to control herself.

"Okay", is all she can get out.

"Get going, make sure you get there tonight. And stay there until I come for you, okay? Do not trust anyone else. No one!"

"I can't...?"

"No!", Natasha interrupts sharply. "You cannot trust him right now. He is not himself. If he tries to contact you, you cannot answer, do you hear me?"

"Yes", Laura swallows.

There is a longer silence on the phone. "I'm so sorry, Laura", Natasha finally says in a quiet tone. Laura nods though she knows Natasha can't see her.

"Я это исправить! обещаю! I bring him back", she says probably speaking more to herself than to Laura. (I fix this!I promise!)

And then the line is dead.


	4. Happy New Year

**Authors note:**

Hello, everyone. It has been ages. I actually had a little writing blockade but I feel like it is gone now. So here is a nice little chapter for New Years Eve. One of my New Year's Resolutions is writing more so I hope there won't be any more gaps like these.

So this chapter is not as long as the others but I hope you like it eitherway.

 **Shadowhuntingdauntlessdemigod** asked for a follow-up for "This is not about trust" and I am on it, since it was requested but it's still not the way I want it to be. So you'll have to be a bit more patient...but it will come!

Anyway, I want to thank everyone who has read, liked and reviewed this story so far.

I also like to ask you again to help me rule out my mistakes. As I told you before, I am not english and I know there are mistakes. If you see really bad ones (especially ones that disturb you while reading), please tell me.

I still don't have a Beta because I still haven't gotten any answeres to the ones I wrote to. If you know people that like to be Beta's...I'd be really grateful.

Okay, so now enjoy the chapter.

 _ **And: Happy New Year, guys!**_

* * *

 **Happy New Year**

She knows it's stupid but she feels like it is the right thing to do. 15 month before she wouldn't have thought about calling anyone. She also wouldn't have felt like this is a significant day but it is. New Years Eve.

Clint has told her that change is not a bad thing, that wanting to have contact with people is in fact a good thing, but she has still trouble understanding, still trouble readjusting to that.

The moment the dialing tone sounds she nearly ends the call but then he answers.

"Natasha?", he asks. She can hear people talking in the background and immediately scolds herself. Of course he wouldn't be alone on New Years Eve. Between the two of them he is the socializing one.

"Wait a second, I can't hear you", he goes on and then the sounds of the people become quieter.

"Okay. That's better. You okay?"

"Yeah."

There is an awkward silence because Natasha is trying to think of another reason she would call him. Another reason that isn't on the sentimental side. Because of course she isn't sentimental. She is the Black Widow. There has to be another reason. But she fails to find it, mainly because she is still angry with herself for calling.

"Mission okay?", Clint offers and she accepts the subject gratefully.

"Yeah, we're done. But because of the snow we can't leave until tomorrow."

"Russia sucks, eh?" She can hear him smile but also knows that it is sympathy concealed as amusement.

He has argued with Fury for sending her to Russia alone, but the mission couldn't be postponed and he has just suffered an injury, maybe not serious but sever enough for him to stay off missions for a few weeks. So he could not join her. She knows he feels guilty about her being in Russia alone.

"It's too cold", she answers easily. She would never admit how much she hates to be here. Never admit that she feels nervous to be here. She can handle anything. She is Black Widow.

"I bet it is. We should try to get a mission in Austrailia next year. It's pretty warm there at this time of the year."

Natasha snorts. She feels like it is wrong to imagine that next year she will have the same job, will basically live at the same place and will have the same partner. She shakes her head. Just wrong.

"Keep on dreaming for both of us, Barton", she says mockingly.

They're silent for a few moments. Then Clint speaks up again. "Will you be in DC next week?"

"I guess so. That is if Fury doesn't need me elsewhere."

"Then I'll come over next week. We'll have lunch and you can tell me everything about the freezing hell over there."

That's nothing special. He does visit her quite often. Making sure she gets out into public. Socializing and stuff. She has despised it at first but now she rather enjoys it. But she would never admit that either. She is Black Widow.

"You miss me, Barton?", she answers evasively.

"Of course. I constantly worry that someone pops up behind my back with you not being there. You miss me?"

"You wish", she replies smiling and rolling her eyes.

"Clint? What are you doing?", comes a female voice through the phone. There are other sounds as if a door has been opened. Laughing people, music. He is at a party, she muses. Of course he would be at a party.

"I'll be there in a minute", Clint answers.

"Go celebrating the new year, Barton", Natasha tells him. There is a short silence and she can feel him struggeling. Probably with all the things she usually sees in his face. Things he wants to say but never does because he fears she will reject them. And he is right, she would. She is Black Widow.

The silence stretches on. And then...

"Happy New Year, Natasha", Clint says quietly.

Natasha smiles, because he has chickend out of it the way she always does, too. He is not pushing her and for that she is greatful. So she gives him the only thanks she can say out loud without feeling too vulnerable.

"С новым годом, Clint", she replies. (Happy New Year). She rarely uses his first name. She knows he'll notice and know what it means, but he doesn't call her out on it.

"See you in a week. I'll call you."

"Okay", she says and then ends the call. The smile is still on her face as she comes back to the dark room she will spent the start of the new year in. The smile is starting to fade but then she remembers that she will have something to come home to, and that thought is kind of comforting.

It also feels stupid immediately but the smile still stays on her face. Because even Black Widow can be happy about something.

* * *

The party is perfect, again an indication of Laura's organisational talent. While hosting the party, making sure that everyone has enough to drink, checking that they don't run out of food and also entertaining their one year old son, she manages to look relaxed and chats with everyone.

Clint stands in the corner of their livingroom watching her amazed while talking to Barney, who barely made it to the party. He usually has to work on days like New Years Eve having no children or family of his own and such. But today they're lucky and Clint can celebrate the new year with his brother for once.

"I swear, everything was under control and then this guy has to play the hero and just blew everything", Barney finishes a story about a recent case, rolling his eyes.

"You always have an idiot somewhere", Clint replies thinking about why he can spent this New Years Eve with his family. The last mission hasn't turned out as planned. Not completely that is. He and Nat had had everything under control when one of the terrorists got up and tried to attack. He had already aimed an arrow at the guy when one of the policemen knocked him out of the way to shoot at the attacker, actually not getting Clint out of line but rather in the line of the shooter. The bullet has only clipped his shoulder but there has been some damage to the muscle and to assure that he can use his arm 100 % again he is forced to step out for a little while.

Barney is starting antoher story as Clint's phone starts buzzing. He takes a look at the display and frowns. It's Natasha.

"Excuse me for a second, Barn. I need to take that."

"Is that work? Your face looks like work! No work on New Years Eve, Clint", Barney scolds him but Clint only waves at him and answers the call.

"Natasha?", he asks over the noise of the room. "Wait a second, I can't hear you!"

He steps out on the porch. No one is out there yet, so it's privet enough.

"Okay, that's better", he declares and because there is still no word from his partner he adds. "You okay?"

He is a little bit worried. Sure he knows she is absolutely capable of her job even when he is not around but this time it's a little different. She is in Russia. She hasn't been to Russia since she defected. He hasn't wanted her to go on her own, but because of his injury he couldn't join her.

"Yeah."

"Mission okay?"

"Yeah, we're done. But because of the snow we can't leave until tomorrow."

She hates it, he can tell. He was certain from the beginning that it would be hard for her to go back to Russia one day and he had planned on being with her. Never plan on things, Barton, he tells himself. He hates it too though. Her being there alone. He is still not very good at reading her, at least not like he can read other people, but if he were there at least he could tell from the way she was acting. Now he has to work with nothing more than her voice and the occasional silences she is giving him. And from that he can tell that she will never talk about it on her own so he tries to help.

"Russia sucks, eh?", he asks smiling a little. He isn't sure she will answer to that in the way he hopes. He wants to help her through it. If he can't be there in person, he can at least try to help over the phone. The fact that she has called is indication for him enough that she needs it but can't ask for it.

And just like he expects she backs out at the last second.

"It's too cold", she says trying to keep her tone light. His smile turns a little bitter, because she still can't let go, not even with him. Not for the first time he curses the Red Room for making her that way.

But he doesn't push her.

"I bet it is. We should try to get a mission in Austrailia next year. It's pretty warm there at this time of the year", he answers.

He can hear her snort and has to smile again.

"Keep on dreaming for both of us, Barton."

There is silence again and Clint tries to imagine her sitting in a dark room in Russia, probably feeling hunted by her past, trying to reach out.

"Will you be in DC next week?"

"I guess so. That is if Fury doesn't need me elsewhere", she replies.

"Then I'll come over next week. We'll have lunch and you can tell me everything about the freezing hell over there."

He will listen. He has decided long ago that he will always give her the chance to speak up. Talk about what is bothering her and he will never stop doing so. But again she backs out of it and tries to mock him again.

"You miss me, Barton?"

He laughs quietly. The truth is he does. He is also worried. Worried because he is not watching her back on such an important mission. Again he has to remind himself that she doesn't need it, not physically that is.

"Of course. I constantly worry that someone pops up behind my back with you not being there. You miss me?", he asks and can hear her rolling her eyes.

"You wish", comes her prompt reply and he shakes his head. One day, Romanoff!

The door behind him opens and Laura sticks her head out. "Clint? What are you doing?" Clint holds up a finger to her. "I'll be there in a minute", he answers and smiles at her. He can tell that she knows who is on the phone. She frowns a little as he turns back to his conversation.

"Go celebrating the new year, Barton", Natasha tells him and Clint sighs silently. He wishes he could do more but there really isn't anything so he takes in a deep breath.

"Happy new year, Natasha", he says quietely but as firm as possible. There is a short silence and for a second he thinks she doesn't respond but then...

"С новым годом, Clint." (Happy New Year)

She rarely uses his first name, so it is kind of special, a quiet thank you he learnt to understand. He smiles again.

"See you in a week. I'll call you", he adds.

"Okay" is all he gets and then the phone is dead.

"Bye", he tells the dead line and stuffs his phone back in his pocket.

"Everything okay?", Laura asks and comes closer.

"I hope so. I think she feels a little lonely."

"She's alone in DC?", she asks leaning against the railing.

"No, actually stuck on a mission in a freezing hell. Literally speaking."

He sighs and drumms with his fingers ontop of the railing. He has wanted to ask her for longer now, but it still feels like too much to ask of her. Again the image of Natasha sitting in a dark room pops up and he takes a deep breath.

"Laura, I was thinking..."

"Yes."

Surprised he looks up. "What?"

Laura smiles at him. "Yes", she says again.

"You..", he starts but she only raises her eyebrows in a 'You really think, I don't know your thoughts, Barton?'- manner.

"I honestly thought you would ask me earlier. But I also think it's time. I won't admit that it doesn't make me nervous, but she should know. She deserves to. She has saved you so often in these last month that she deserves to know how much she has saved. So yes. Tell her and bring her."

He is lost in her eyes for a second, feeling undeserving of her love and then leans in to kiss her.

"I love you", he says and she laughs.

"Tell him he is allowed to bring another woman and he tells you he loves you!", she laughes and draws him back inside.


End file.
